


When Calls the Need

by JusteAmusant



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is Derek, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kneeling Derek Hale, M/M, helpful Stiles, hooker!fic, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 07:51:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18796111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JusteAmusant/pseuds/JusteAmusant
Summary: "Four hundred," the guy says, and Stiles blinks, because that's more than five times what he would expect to get in an hour, and fuck, has this guy seen himself? Stiles would suck his cock for free."Sold, yeah, done," he tumbles out, already reaching for the dude's waistband.





	When Calls the Need

Stiles isn't sure when it started, this game of theirs. He only knew that this guy, with his dark hair, brooding stare, and muscles to last for days, was the best lay Stiles had ever had. 

He was also somehow loaded, and that didn't hurt either. He never had to quote a price though, because Tall Dark and Anguished always threw out a number first. 

"Four hundred," the guy says, and Stiles blinks, because that's more than five times what he would expect to get in an hour, and fuck, has this guy seen himself? Stiles would suck his cock for free.

"Sold, yeah, done," he tumbles out, already reaching for the dude's waistband.

Large hands, firmer than steel grip his wrists. "Not here." And yeah, Stiles knows better than to get in the car of some guy he barely knows, so he starts extolling the lessons of Stranger Danger, but the guy barely listens. Stiles lets out an exasperated noise, and jerks his head towards his Jeep. "I'll drive." 

Tall Dark and Scary looks at him like he's just grown two heads. He slaps two bills into Stiles' palm. "Incentive," he explains, before he dips into his camaro and starts the engine. 

Stiles takes that as his cue to follow, which he does after yanking open the still locked door to his Jeep, tripping against it, then dropping his keys twice. By the time he gets belted in and starts the motor, the camaro's brake lights are disappearing around the curve ahead.

 

All the rumors he's heard about Derek Hale start to circle in his brain, and Stiles laughs to himself because he isn't sure what else to do when it isn't some janky ass house in the woods where Tall Dark and Sexy Shoulders has just led him. 

The Derek Hale he knew of was a lone wolf -ha, even when he's turned on and a teeny bit terrified, he still cracks himself up- not this pickup hook with amazing hair and a penthouse room with polished marble floors. And sometimes that's what happens, the guy surprises him in all new ways, and what the hell does Stiles care, because he knows what the end game is. 

"Strip."

Stiles practically sheds his close in one go a la Jim Carrey in Bruce Almighty, but his ever present snark stops him. "What, no music? No chair to settle into so I can give you a lap dance? No -" He's shoved against the wall before he can finish, and fuck, werewolf reflexes are hot. "Or this works too, yeah." He lets Derek - he knows it's him, and also Stiles would need to seriously consider his life choices if he were to follow random men out of the woods without a second thought - slide hot, rough hands up his sides, divesting him of his tee shirt at the same time he uses it to tie Stiles hands above his head.

And then Derek is falling, no wait not falling, fucking  _kneeling_ in front of Stiles, and he has Stiles' dick out in less time than it takes for Stiles to gasp at the feel of his hot, heavy hand around him, and he glances down just in time to see Derek gaze up at him, and who looks that fucking challenging on their knees, for Chrissake, before his mouth envelops Stiles in one smooth motion.

"I think you have this backwards," Stiles pants and Derek hollows his cheeks. "See, you pay me, and I'm the one who's supposed to suck  _your-_ jesusfuckingohkay  _yes_." The pressure and heat of Derek's mouth is too much, and Stiles realizes he's hot for this, no, fucking  _desperate_ to please, to pleasure, to gain approval for something that comes to him like a bird to flight. 

He's not one to purposely piss off a werewolf - okay, his mouth maybe gets him in trouble sometimes, but really, his filter...- anyway, he doesn't want to openly defy Derek's silent command but judging by the way Derek is currently sucking him off like his life depends on it makes Stiles risk lowering his wrists from their cotton prison. He curls one hand around Derek's cheek, feeling himself inside it and fuck if that isn't enough to make him want to come right then. His other hand fists into Derek's hair, and he meets the wolf's impossibly blue eyes with his own and murmurs, "Good boy," like he would if Derek were a freakin' pet, and damned if Hale doesn't lean into his touch like he is one.

 _Holy shit,_ Stiles thinks, but then his mind goes blank, because his hips are stuttering into Derek's mouth, and he's formulating broken words and tugging his hair to warn him, but Derek doesn't listen, just keeps worshipping him with that hot mouth of his, and suddenly Stiles is coming down Derek's throat like he hasn't found release in weeks.

Looking down, he sees a trace of himself on Derek's lip and he wipes it gently with his thumb, dick twitching again as Derek turns his head to lick it off.

 

Later, after Derek has found his own release by fucking Stiles through the mattress - chest to chest, Stiles' legs wide and welcoming, chin tipped up towards Derek because his wolf loves to look him in the eyes while they fuck, and really, who knew Derek Hale was such a freakin' romantic?- Stiles exhales deeply enough for the both of them, and tucks his chin against Derek's arm where it's wrapped protectively around him. "Did it help?"

Derek was silent for a moment, wrapped entirely around Stiles, granite hard chest to Stiles' pale back, then he tucks his face into Stiles neck and breathes deep. "It helped." 

Stiles can't help the smile that crosses his face as he looks at the two hundred dollar bills on the nightstand, crumpled props in Derek Hale's secret stress relief routine. He hasn't quite learned that he can be vulnerable in front of Stiles without the role play, could give him one word and Stiles would take control, force Derek to his knees, and let his stupid alpha lover let go of everything he keeps so tightly wound inside. 

Sleep will come easy to both of them now, he knows, which is why he's surprised to hear that Derek isn't done talking yet. "You always help," he mutters into Stiles' ear. He noses him again, and a warm flood of affection and satisfaction courses through Stiles, knowing that Derek is scenting him.

For once, Stiles doesn't know what to say, because that was practically a declaration of love on Derek's part for all the guy knows how to communicate anything remotely emotional, so he tucks himself impossibly closer into Derek, and says, "Yep, that's me, always ready and willing to...help."

Derek growls, and tightens his grip, and Stiles rolls his eyes even though Derek can't see. "For you, sourwolf, okay? Chill the alpha." He slots their fingers together. "Only for you."

He waits until he hears Derek settle into sleep before succumbing to it himself, knowing that while he may be a puny high school human, in this, at least, he can feel like the protector.

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing Sterek, and my first time writing again in a while. Thanks to these guys for giving me a jumpstart  
> Hope you enjoyed <3
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> If you like(non-sexual) De-Aged/Age Regression fics, with loads of Pack Parent! Sterek, check me out over at username StarShineForMe (posted there because Reasons :/ ) I will be using that name for reader fics and De-Aged fluff and romance, so if that's yo thang, check it out!
> 
> <3


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